borrowed Ryker’s brush to tame my hair. After splashing some water on my face, I knew it was as good as it was going to get.
Searching through the kitchen turned up a coffeemaker and coffee grounds, and I started a pot while I heard the door close to the bathroom. McClane padded into the kitchen, his nails tapping lightly against the hardwood floor. He stared at me, tongue lolling. He was so huge, his head came to my hips.
“So what am I supposed to do with you?” I asked. “Is there a cat around for you to chase, or a small suckling pig in the fridge for your breakfast?”
McClane plopped his butt on the floor, his tail thumping. Maybe he was smiling at me? It was hard to tell with all the sharp, white teeth.
“Hey, boy, let’s go outside.” Ryker appeared and it seemed McClane knew what those words meant because he was up and out the open back door like a shot. Ryker closed it behind him.
“Did you find the coffee?” he asked.
I nodded. “Yeah. I put a pot on.” This felt awkward, like the proverbial morning-after, but without the sex, which seemed grossly unfair. He’d showered and changed into jeans and a white tank, an unbuttoned short-sleeve shirt thrown on over that. I guessed he wore layers to conceal his holster. His dog tags were centered on his chest and the sunlight glinted off the metal.
“Tell you what,” he said, “we’ll have breakfast, then I’ll take you back to your place for some clothes, and then we’ll go do something. Get your mind off it.”
“Like what?”
“Something. You’ve had a shitty week,” he said with a shrug. “A change of scenery will do you good, trust me.”
I really couldn’t disagree with that, and the prospect of spending the day with Ryker made butterflies dance in my stomach, which also made me feel guilty. Hanna was still dead.
“Oh no you don’t,” he said. “I can see it on your face. You’re still feeling guilty. Don’t. It wasn’t your fault.”
I nodded, knowing that I could tell myself that until I was blue in the face, but it would be a while before the guilt abated.
“Can I help do something?” I asked, wanting to change the subject. “Can you cook?”
“I can cook breakfast,” he said, bypassing me for the fridge. “That’s probably the one meal I can cook.”
I glanced out the back door to the patio and saw a really nice high-end grill. “And barbeque, right?”
Ryker’s arms were full of eggs and a package of bacon when he turned around.
“I’m a total cliché,” he said with a shrug, depositing everything on the counter. “I can cook eggs and grill a steak. That’s about it.” He grinned, the dimple in his cheek on full wattage. “How do you like your eggs? Scrambled or scrambled?”
I laughed. “Scrambled is good.”
He nodded, but I caught him glancing at my chest before he turned away. My camisole pajamas didn’t leave a lot to the imagination, not that there was anything I could do about it. But hey, I had nice boobs, and I didn’t mind Ryker looking. I was doing my own share of looking, too.
His arms were absolutely maxed out. His biceps bulged, straining the cotton of the T-shirt, and even from where I stood a few feet away, I could see the outline of the veins in his arms standing out in prominent relief underneath his skin. The sign of a man who worked out hard.
I wasn’t one of those women who pretended not to be impressed by a man’s physique. I loved a well-built man. Ryker said he was a cliché? Well, so was I. I was definitely impressed by a strong man. Sue me.
And a man who could make me breakfast.
The eggs were perfect, as was the bacon, and Ryker chatted with me while we ate. I asked him about his job and he told me a couple of hair-raising stories about drug pushers and gangs he’d been a part of taking down. It was engrossing and I barely noticed him feeding McClane bits of bacon as he talked.
“Weren’t you scared?” I asked, after he’d told me about getting cornered by some gang members who’d found out he was an undercover cop.
He shrugged. “Yeah, but it’s the kind of fear that brings everything into sharp focus. Like a hit of adrenaline tinged with terror. It can help you survive.”
I shook my head. I couldn’t imagine living like that, but Ryker seemed to love